


they will see us waving

by Gohandinhand



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bemily Week, F/F, Height difference, this turned into 1.5k of super soft Beca because apparently that's all I do anymore!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 17:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13956702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gohandinhand/pseuds/Gohandinhand
Summary: It's been a big day and Beca's determined to commemorate it. Her height is not going to stop her.





	they will see us waving

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever had to tell friends a story that starts with "I almost died last night because I was standing on top of the counter, please don't ask me why the reason is not important," because if so I am right there with you.

Save for the sound of Emily humming quietly to herself, the house was silent as she toed her shoes off at the door. Emily’s thesis defense had for the most part gone smoothly and her immediate plans involved overthinking every answer she’d given while waiting for Beca to get home. 

Only nothing about this evening was going to be what she expected it to be, Emily realized as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

Beca stood on top of the counter next to the sink, eyes wide, frozen in place like a prey animal hoping that the wolf wouldn’t get any closer. 

Emily cleared her throat. Beca grimaced.

“Hi, Beca,” Emily offered.

“This is not what it looks like.” 

“Okay,” Emily agreed, pulling the water pitcher out of the fridge. “Can you hand me a glass?”

“Um…” Beca shuffled across the counter until she reached the proper cabinet. “You want the Tigger one?”

“Surprise me.” 

Beca shimmied awkwardly, trying to get out of the way enough to open the cabinet. First a shoulder, then her whole upper body bent back like she was doing a sideways replication of the limbo. 

“Whoops!” Beca used the cabinet door as leverage to steady herself and placed the foot that had slid off the edge of the countertop back on the beveled sink border. Emily’s heart slowly sank down from where it had jumped into her throat. 

“Not the kind of surprise I was hoping for.”

“Me either,” Beca sighed. 

“Hop on,” Emily turned around and gestured for Beca to climb onto her back. 

“I can get down myself,” Beca grumped.

“I’m sure you can.” Emily conveyed a single arched eyebrow with the tone of her voice and Beca sighed again, wrapping her arms tightly around Emily’s shoulders. She stepped forward and Beca’s arms dropped, expecting her body to follow the downward path. Instead Emily gripped Beca tighter, holding her aloft until a haphazard kiss was placed along her hairline as toll. 

“I thought we talked about this,” Emily said as Beca’s feet hit the ground.

“You weren’t home!”

“What couldn’t wait?” 

Beca shuffled her feet and hunched in her shoulders nervously. The last glimmerings of her panic faded away and Emily softened. 

“I was trying to surprise you,” her girlfriend mumbled. Emily blinked. “I just need - “ Beca stretched up towards the top of the cabinet again, rolling to her tiptoes. Then she grunted, low and frustrated, before pushing herself up on her arms and balancing on the edge of the counter with her stomach.

“Beca - “ Emily started.

“Emily, I need you to come be tall for me.” Beca was all sarcasm and edges and rocking impatiently on her toes and Emily smiled gently and nudged her out of the way with her hip. She obeyed Beca’s directions without questioning the wine glasses or the candy bowl or the light purple pillar candle with Emily’s favorite fig and apricot scent.

“Is that it?”

“And the Tigger glass was in the dishwasher this whole time.” 

“Huh.” 

“When are you going to stop putting things on the top shelves?”

“When did you start liking wine enough to drink it without me?” 

“Wait here!” Beca, having been reminded of her task, took off down the hallway with the sort of mischief filling her eyes that always meant either very, very good or very, very bad things.

Emily filled her glass precisely to the tip of Tigger’s tail and propped the pitcher under the faucet to refill it. 

“Em, where are the matches?” 

She pulled them down from the cupboard and handed them over, her puckered lips wordlessly demanding a kiss tax which Beca gave without protest. Emily felt her grin into the kiss before running down the hallway again and Emily let her go, content to let Beca have her fun for now. 

The pitcher went back in the fridge and Emily counted out four sips before Beca ducked down the hallway again. 

“Okay, it’s ready,” the announcement came. Beca crowded behind her back and Emily startled as hands came around to cover her eyes. 

“Sorry,” Beca pressed a kiss of apology to a exposed shoulder blade that had yet to develop the typical summertime hue. “I’ll lead you.”

“Um,” Emily stalled as her brain worked furiously. Beca Mitchell did not take kindly to people pointing out that her height limited her dexterity. Emily Junk did not take kindly to running face-first into obstacles due to her girlfriend’s inability to see over her shoulders. Or through them.

“Fine,” Beca sighed. Emily blinked as light reached her eyes again. At Beca’s gesture, she obligingly bent her legs and helped Beca settle onto the small of her back. A pair of arms flung themself dramatically into her field of vision before curling down and around, Beca’s elbows propped up against Emily’s collarbones and hands settling back over her eyes. “Yeehaw!” 

Emily slipped one hand down from under Beca’s thigh to pinch at the curve of vulnerable flesh, wincing at the squeals of protest erupting in her left ear. 

“No short jokes, no horse jokes.” 

“Fine. Go straight for, like, twelve steps?” Beca sounded unsure. 

“We’ve both lived in this house for the last two years. You could just tell me where to go.” 

“I just need you to walk slower so I can calculate.” Emily immediately slowed to a comically slow pace and Beca nipped playfully at the shell of her ear. “Fine, not slower. Smaller.” 

“Why, did I just hear Beca Mitchell use the word ‘small’?” 

“Small like your brain,” was muttered in Emily’s ear and instead of countering Beca’s jest, she beamed. 

“Oh, you haven’t heard? I finished grad school today. My brain is is now officially enormously  _ full  _ of useless facts.” 

“Some of them aren’t useless,” Beca hummed suggestively. Emily was sure Beca could feel her blush in the heat of the cheeks her arms were pressed against. 

“The small people do seem to appreciate my vast selection of Frozen quotes. Yourself notwithstanding.” 

“They’re also going to appreciate this story of how you ran into a wall.” 

“Beca!” Emily balked at taking another step and Beca laughed before wiggling off her back. 

“It’s fine, Em. Open your eyes.” 

“Oh!” she breathed. 

“I am very proud of you.” Beca said it in that little voice she only used when what she was saying was very big and that would have been enough for Emily. 

But Beca had lit candles - not just Emily’s favorite pillar but several others as well - and drawn a scented bath. A filled wine glass sat on the ledge next to a bowl full of peanut butter m&ms and gummies. While the room rang with Emily’s laughter Beca wrinkled up her nose and announced that dinner before dessert was a hard-and-fast rule only for children. 

“This is perfect, Bec,” Emily sighed as she shucked off her clothing and sank into the water. “A non-celebration celebration is just what I needed. I’m glad it’s just us.” 

“Me, too,” Beca grinned, her eyes caught on non-PG areas until Emily cleared her throat. Her eyes flew back up, guilty, but Emily just winked. “You soak. I’m going to make us dinner.”

Emily hadn’t even made a conscious decision when she felt her face settle into the pout that was so famously Beca’s kryptonite. She whined out a protest and Beca rolled her eyes before leaning over to administer a toe-curling kiss. 

“Better?”

“If you leave me alone with my thoughts I’m going to work myself into a state of anxiety that can only end with calling my advisor and begging her to let me change a few of my answers. Do you want to test that, Mitchell?”

“Well we can’t have that,” Beca smirked and stripped herself. Emily stubbornly shook her head when Beca tried to nudge her forward and slide in behind her. Instead of pressing the issue, she pressed a kiss to Emily’s head and flipped off the water. The mantle of bubbles broke around Beca’s legs and resealed over her as she sank down against Emily’s front. She cuddled in closer and propped her chin on top of Beca’s head, something so routine that by now it didn’t even earn a comment.

For a few minutes they lounged in a room silent save for the gentle sloshing of water. Beca tilted herself onto one hip to fix Emily with a peculiar look that she was, in that moment, too content to worry about. Mostly.

“What are you thinking about?” 

“I don’t have to call you Doctor Junk, do I?” 


End file.
